The Antagonist
by HairoM
Summary: Draco is a prince in exile, cast out for a crime he claims he's never committed. Now he plans a revenge on his family and there's no stopping him. Well, there's Harry Potter. m/m, slash, OOC, AU/AR, character death  not Harry/Draco , rated M for safety.
1. Prologue

Title: The Anatagonist

Book: Harry Potter

Author: HairoM

Genre: romance, drama, general, AU, AR

Pairing(s): Draco/Harry (main)

**WARNINGS**: m/m, slash, angst, character death (not Harry or Draco), OOC, creature

**DISCLAIMER**: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. This story is for entertainment only and I make no money off of it. However, some charcaters in this fan fiction were created by me and belong to me, as does the plotline of this story.

**The Antagonist**

**-prologue-**

.o.O.O.o.

_"'Cause love only comes once in a while_

_Knocks on your door and throws you a smile_

_It takes every breath and leaves every scar_

_Speaks to your soul and sings to your heart__."_

_I know now, what I hadn't known then__. _

_And I'd fall in love with you over and over again__._

_First there was the lightning, and like every other time, thunder came afterwards. The dark sky was momentarily bright and the massive black clouds were visible to the last detail, but it only made them more dramatic and frightening. People are mostly afraid of what they can't see, because they don't know what it might be and how to face it. They would like to see the things that they're up against, thinking that if they do so their fear would lessen, not knowing that sometimes it's better for those things to stay in the dark__. _

_The rolling of thunder faded away and, as if it was the opening shot, a torrent of rain poured down from the clouds all of a sudden. Another stormy night. He stepped away from the large window and turned to the fireplace. He stared at it for a long moment, contemplating inaudibly in his head. His father was probably in his bed chamber and so was his brother. It was silent aside from the sound of crackling fire. After a moment he decided that he shouldn't be so anxious and went to his bed. An old notebook was lying there and he picked it up. It was made of green leather and had a beautiful silver clasp to keep it closed. But the pages, that were already a light shade of yellow even before he received the notebook , were blank. Not even a single word, not even his name was written in it. He ran a finger along the spine and allowed himself a small smile, barely noticeable. His mother gave it to him and she had said it was special. There was nothing really special about it in truth, and he assumed she said it because it was from her to him and because she hadn't given one to his brother, and that fact made that notebook special indeed__. _

_He leafed through the empty pages and wondered if he should start using it after all. Up until now he hasn't done so because there was nothing special to write, not really. His life was the same as the rest of his family's and he had no desire to write about his life, or his family for that matter__. _

_His father and brother didn't know about the notebook, not that it was any big secret. It just pleased him that it was something given to him by his mother and no one besides the two of then knew about it. The thought made him smile again__. _

_He leaned back on the bed and held the notebook in his hand, close to his chest. Tonight was his last night here at home. From tomorrow on he'd be an exiled prince, cast out by his own father for something he hadn't done. __Like homework_, he thought and it made him laugh madly. _But they're punishing me for something I didn't do_. Of course everyone else thought otherwise and he was outnumbered and all his attempts to convince them that he was innocent failed misereably. He didn't blame them for finding him guilty, he probably would have thought the same if he hadn't known the truth, but he was angry with them for not believing him when he said he was innocent. The anger he felt soon grew to a raging fury and it burned his insides like a wild fire in a field of dry thorns-quick and deadly.

He looked at his notebook again and let a single tear slide down his cheek. _I'm so sorry..._ He didn't do it, and _they_ definitely didn't do it, but sometimes it felt as if they did. He wasn't one to cry much, not as a child and not as a twenty year old adult. But last night he did and it was curious and strange and he didn't like it at all.

It was just a misunderstanding, that's what it was. But of course, no one but him knew that.

"I'm so sorry mother," he whispered to the empty room. "I'll make them pay, I promise."

###-###-###

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as she suggested it but he couldn't stop her. It was just a feeling after all. He couldn't help but admire her way of thinking. He, of course, was the best suited person for this. He was the rebellious son, the younger brother, the one who isn't meant to inherit the throne, the one who's meant to watch form the shadows. She knew it, and she knew of his feelings towards his brother and father. That's why she chose him.

"Mother, I do think this is a bad idea," he told her firmly but futiley.

"Draco, promise me!" she whispered urgently and looked at him straight in the eye. She was beautiful in her firmness and he was told he looked very much like her. "Promise me, Draco!"

He sighed deeply and promised.

They passed the large corridors as fast as they could, ignoring the guards and servants. Let them see. When they reached the room they entered it and quickly locked the door behind them. "Quick! Over here!" she urged him and he followed. She closed all curtains and then turned to him. "You know they're going to blame you for this," she said and her voice was low and soft. He nodded silently. Of course he knew! That was the whole point, wasn't it? That was why she chose him and not his brother, No one would ever even dream of blaming his brother. But he himself was a different case. He was the bad boy, the child who was no good at all.

"You don't have to do this," she tried again but he shook his head.

"I want to. If they can't trust me for doing nothing, I shall give them a real reason not to."

She looked at him and the smile she gave him was a sad one. "I love you, you know," she said.

"And I never wanted it, the throne," he told her. "I just don't feel belong here."_ And father never loved me as much he loves Aquila__. _

_"__You shall be king Draco," she said firmly and her eyes glowed in a strange light. "When there's no light there's darkness. When there are no eagles in the sky, dragons shall be seen again." He smiled to that. "Are you suggesting I do something to dispose of my brother? Your first-born son?" he asked in a slight amusement__. _

_"__Not at all. I'm merely giving you an advice my son__."_

_"__I must say I don't fully understand your advice, mother__."_

_"__You will, when the time comes__." _

_They could hear footsteps now, of guards running and servants in panic. "Hurry!" she urged him and he pulled out his wand. She stood there motionless and a determined look in her eyes. "Look for me in the flowers, Draco. I'll be there and we'll meet again." she whispered softly to him. "Tell them the truth__."_

_He could feel salty tears streaming down his face, into his nose and mouth but he didn't wipe them away. __Let them fall_, he thought. And as he raised his wand and aimed it at her chest he thought again of why they were doing this. The answer was clear and hard: _they_ needed someone to blame, a scapegoat. Draco didn't think they desreved his help, but his mother still believed in them and he loved his mother. He was doing it for her and only for her. Not for the father who's never loved him, and not for the big brother who took his father's love all to himself. No, he was doing it for her and perhaps... he mouthed the incatation, and as his mother fell to the floor in what seemed like a thousand minutes, he could hear her last words to him: _thank you__..._

_When the gurads finally found him and took him away, he glanced at the body of his dead mother for the last time and swore to himself he'd make them pay for everything__. _

_.o.O.O.o._

_A/N: This plot bunny was further evolved after watching Thor and falling in love with Loki all over again. (Yes, I know he looks awful in the comics. I'm talking about the real Loki from the original norse mythology). In this fan fiction of mine, Harry isn't the main character as he so often is. Instead, it's Draco. Just like Loki, I think Draco is somewhat misunderstood and I wanted to create a story which sympathizes Draco. Harry, despite not being the main character, still has an important role here because maybe he isn't The Hero he usually is, but he is still the only one who can save Draco from himself. _

_The lyrics at the begining are from Lady Antebellum's "If I Knew Then". check it out, it's awesome!_

_HairoM 3_


	2. In A Golden Cage

**For warnings and disclaimer see prologue.**

**The Antagonist**

**chpater one - ****In A Golden Cage**

by HairoM

.o.O.O.o.

_Welcome to the fallout  
>Welcome to resistance<br>The tension is here  
>Between who you are and who you could be<br>Between how it is and how it should be._

_**I dare you to move  
>I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor<strong>_

His belongings all fit into two trunks: one for his clothes and the other for other things such as books, and some souvenirs from home. They didn't allow him to take more than that, and anyway there was not much else he wished to take with him.

The trial was surprisingly long-he'd expected it to be much shorter and to the point-and there were representatives from most of the noble houses such as Prewett, Parkinson and Nott. There was also one from The Noble House of Black, of course. His grandmother's cold glare hurt more than he thought it would. Druella loved her daughter and she loved her grandchildren, especially Draco. Her disappointment couldn't have been more obvious. She was probably wondering how he could've killed his own mother. Like the rest of them. _Well, let her think whatever she liked_. They kept debating his case, bringing up new questions every time the last ones were answered or left alone without being able to answer them. For some reason they thought it important to make sure that they checked every angle, almost as if they cared about him, as if they didn't want him to be found guilty. Absurd, and his father's eyes proved that thought.

When all of it was finally over he was left alone with four guards that took him away back to his room, where they locked him up. His punishment was to live the rest of his life as an outcast. He will be given an apartment and be provided with food and basic necessities. But he won't be considered a Malfoy prince any longer, his rights as prince will be taken away from him as well as his Malfoy fortune, and he will not be allowed back to the palace or his family. But the part that was most curious to him was the last clause which stated: "..._shall be put under the supervision of Hogwarts' Headmaster Professor Albus Dumbledore for a period of thirteen months_..." He'd heard of that man, the whole world knew about him. But Draco didn't know him personally and he had no idea what connections the man had to do with his case, or how he could help him. As far as he knew, Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and also a Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and that was it. He couldn't help but be a little bit curious about the whole issue.

The next morning he was sent away. It was a gray morning, and the sun was blocked by thick clouds-remnants of the night before's storm. His father was absent but his brother was there to see him off. Draco looked at him from where he was standing, some meters away from his carriage. His brother was looking at him with a mixture of feelings. Draco could detect pity and... relief maybe? He couldn't have cared less. When he was just about to get inside the carriage his brother finally approached. For some time he just stood there, saying nothing, untill Draco lost his patience. His older brother was always like that, on the slower side, always hesitating, debating things and wondering a million times if he should do or say something. So much unlike Draco. "If you've got nothing to say, then please excuse me," he said imaptiently, "I've got to go on my excile, you see." Aquila then stared at him with big wondering eyes and Draco had the urge to hit him. Hard. "I'm not sorry," his brother said in his strong voice. Draco said nothing. "Those who commit crimes should be punished," he went on but Draco was just thinking of how annoying his brother was being. "But I am sorry I didn't help you before it was too late." To this Draco nearly laughed. He managed to stifle the urge but a smirk escaped anyway. "Don't be," he told his brother coldly. "I don't need your sympathy or pity." And with that he left.

And now he was here, at Hogwarts, in a suffocatingly small bedroom that was to be his for the next thirteen months, with no idea what he was here for. He supposed someone will tell him in the morning, though.

His owl, Noctis, screeched and made him turn around. Noctis was in his cage and he demanded to be released by making a ruckus. So Draco finally let him out of his cage and the bird flew out and settled itself on a shelf above the small desk that he was provided with.

"I guess the shelf is better than the cage..." Draco said in amusement. After a moment, though, he was reminded of his own situation and it didn't seem all that amusing. He was like a bird in a cage. He was provided with all the things he needed and yet... he was a prisoner, and Hogwarts-his prison._ You are a free spirit Draco. You will stay free as long as you believe_. His mother had once said that to him when he was nine and had decided that he wanted become a carpenter, and so started cutting down a tree in the garden. His father was furious and his brother called him immature, but his mother smiled and hugged him and, after scolding him, told him those words. _Believe in what?_ he had asked. _Believe in yourself, believe that you can do anything if you only want to. _She had answered.

Well, he believed. Oh, yes he did.

###-###-###

"Good morning to you, Draco." Draco examined the old man. He had eyes of the most electrifying blue and a white beard so long he actually tugged it behind his belt. He smiled warmly at Draco and gestured to him to sit down. Draco hesitantly made his way to the chair on the opposite side of the Headmaster's and slowly sat down. He didn't trust this man, what reason did have to do so? But he was curious, very curious. Curiousity got you exciled, his mind reminded him but he shook the thought away.

"Good morning Professor," he said politely. He may be in excile, but his manners weren't. Dumbledore smiled. "I am sure you are very curious as to why you are here," the old man said. "Well, I requested that you be sent here." Draco stared at him. "You requested-? I don't even know you!" he said incredelously. Dumbledore smiled again. "Yes, but I know you," at Draco's narrowed eyes he added, "or rather, I would like to know you, better." Draco said nothing.

"I believe you are not evil Draco," Draco was still slightly startled by being adressed in such familiarity with no titles added to his name. He kept forgetting that he had no family now, let alone a title. "I know you have still got goodness in you." Dumbledore said. It sounded so ridiculous. Draco didn't know the man enough to be any judge, but personally he thought the man was a bit more on the gaga side. He only snorted in reply. "You don't think so?" Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "I merely think there's plenty of other things you don't know,sir." Draco said in slight amusement. Dumbledore nodded amicably. "Oh there is no doubt of that," he said. "But I am quite confident that there are plenty of things that I _do_ know, too." Draco scowled. "And I know you are not evil, Draco."

"Whatever I am, why does it concern you sir?" Draco asked, his voice stoic and polite but his eyes storming with anger.

"Because I do not wish for you to do something stupid or reckless," was the answer, mingled with a bit of sadness.

"But why?"

"Because you are a good person, Draco. No one should need any more reason than that."

Draco couldn't say he understood the man's reason, nor could he follow his line of thought any longer but one thing was sure to him. "Are you suspecting me of plotting something, sir?" he asked darkly.

"I do." Draco was surprised by the straight-forward answer. He thought the man would try to deny or avoid it. He didn't expect him to admitt it just like that. _Was he retarded_? Draco sure thought so.

"You must know that vengeance is never good, Draco. You'll gain nothing from it."

"You assume things, sir," he replied putting on his face an offended expression. He didn't think Dumbledore believed him but he didn't wish to take any risks. "Sir what really is the purpose of this arrangement?"

Dumbledore then looked at him with those electrifying eyes of him and Draco couldn't help the feeling of anxiety. He clenched his fists on his lap and waited, anxious but unwavering.

"I want to offer you a job."

If Draco hadn't been taught since birth to school his features, he would have gaped then like a fish. "Offer me a job...?" he repeated, still not quite believing. Dumbledore smiled. "Yes. As our Flying Instructor. I've heard tell that you are very good." Draco just stared. In his mind, though, he was contemplating furiously. He loved flying and he wasn't being arrogant by saying he was good. But, should he accept the offer? He understood now what the headmaster was trying to do. It was called community service, and Dumbledore wished to put him through rehabilitation by making him teach some annoying kids how to fly. Was he to try it? Was it worth it? What was the catch? He didn't know what to do.

"What is the hidden agenda?" he decided to ask.

"There is none, Draco."

Draco kept silent for another long moment. Should he do it? Should he accept the offer? He was reluctant to, because accepting it meant admitting that he needed help, it meant accepting Dumbledore's sympathy (and he didn't want it, nor need it). But his realistic head told him that not accepting it is stupid. It was an oppurtunity, a great one, to gain the trust of Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts staff. That will give him much more freedom to carry out his plans. Not that he had any at that moment. A slow smirk formed on his lips. "Are you going to believe in me, no matter what?" he asked Dumbledore. "I will, Draco." the old man said softly and Draco's smirk widened. _A fool indeed_.

"Then, it would be a great honor, sir." There was a very brief moment, in which Draco saw in the man's eyes something akin to suspicion, but it was gone almost the moment it appeared.

"Very well. I welcome you to Hogwarts, Instructor Draco. As you know, school year starts next week and so will you. You will teach only the first year students, of course."

"Am I allowed to leave the grounds of the castle, then?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not, my boy. You are still forbidden from leaving." Draco nodded. He wasn't expecting to be allowed to, anyway. "But Hogwarts is a very big place. I myself sometimes get lost in here," Dumbledore added and his eyes twinkled with joy. _Was that a hidden message_? Draco could have sworn so.

"I wish you good luck, Draco."

"Thank you sir." _You too_.

###-###-###

**Pages from a leather-bound noteboook.**

_Day one._  
><em>Will start working as Flying Instructor here at Howarts next week.<em>  
><em>Noctis should be set free. Albus Dumbledore.<em>

.o.O.O.o.

**A/N**: I know this chapter is rather short. But you should know that this story was-is- spontaneous. I have the (very)basic plotline and I have to further develop it while writing. So... but anyway, I hope this chapter is good enough.

Also, there were some problems with the prologue. I mean, did you _see_ the_ italics_? they all went crazy on me and I can't fix it. I tried, but it just won't do. I realized I'll have to reupload the file but I don't want to do that. It's more work and I really don't like the sound of it.

So thanx for reading anyway!

The song is called "I Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot.

HairoM 3


	3. Hello Sunshine

**For warnings and disclaimer see prologue. **

This chapter's probably sloppy. It hasn't been beta-read. But it's probably worse than the other chapters. sorry :(

**The Antagonist**

**chapter two - Hello Sunshine**

by HairoM

.o.O.O.o.

_Tyger! Tyger! burning bright _

_In the forests of the night, _

_What immortal hand or eye _

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry? _

_In what distant deeps or skies _

_Burnt the fire of thine eyes? _

_On what wings dare he aspire? _

_What the hand dare sieze the fire?_

.o.O.O.o

He felt ridiculous. It was still hard to believe that he had actually agreed to do this. Draco looked at the sky-it was nice and blue for the beginning of September. He lowered his gaze back to the group of kids in front of him. They were about fourty, and they looked so small! He didn't remember himself being so small at their age. They stared up at him in wonder, some in anxiety and others in awe. Draco smirked.

"Good morning," he greeted them and recieved faint replies in return which widened his smirk even more. "My name is Draco and I'll be your Flying Instructor." He felt utterly foolish. What in Merlin's pants was he doing here, teaching some brats how to fly? Well, it wasn't like he had any other options how to spend his time.

"There's no need to be nervous," he said, although he kind of liked their fearful expressions. They knew who he really was, of course. They couldn't not know. After all, the murder of Narcissa Malfoy took the front page in the Daily Prophet. Draco didn't expect them to like him, and their fear of him didn't bother him at all. He rather enjoyed it. A little fear harmed nobody. "I see there are Gryffindors and Slytherins here," he continued. "I'm pleased to meet you all. Now take a stand beside your brooms!" Reaction was immediate. The students broke out of the semi-circle they were standing in and rushed to do as he commanded. For a moment Draco enjoyed a chaos of green and scarlet and then it was quiet once again. They stood in a perfect line, very much like guards greeting their lord. Guards and a lord... he was suddenly reminded of his previous life. He had always enjoyed taunting the guards and making them chase him around the castle. Well, the lower ranking guards, anyway. He mentally shook his head and refocused on his students.

How should he start? He wasn't a teacher and he had no idea what to do. What should he say? Will they even listen to him? He took a deep breath.

Maybe he should just... talk to them.

"Ok. Before I begin, I have a question for you," he said. They stared at him. "What do you know about flying in general?" Yes that was a good start. No one answered, just stared, as if each one of them was wondering the same thing: is he mental? The silence was awkward and Draco reprimanded himself for his stupid idea. He was trying to think of a way to not make himself look utterly foolish when he heard it. The voice was so small he almost missed it, and it was nervous but he heard it. "...way to move from place to place..." Draco could have kissed the little girl right there and then! She looked as nervous as she sounded, playing with her fingers and touching her hair the whole time, but she looked up at Draco and he saw determination in those blue eyes. He thought she deserved a smile so he gave her an ancouraging one.

"That is correct! Miss..."

"Um... it's Vela Ashford, sir." was the mumbled reply.

"Very well," Draco turned to the rest of the class. "Miss Ashford's words are right. Flying is indeed a way to transport oneself from one place to another. That is the basic and initial purpose for flying. But," he looked at them all, "can't we also derive pleasure from flying?" a few of them nodded. It seemed that at least some of them were encouraged by Vela's courage and a boy said from the end of the line: "we have Quidditch..."

"Yes," Draco said with a smile, "we have Quidditch. And isn't it fun?" more students nodded this time, most of them boys, and even dared smiling at him. "It's fun, isn't it?" Draco continued in amusement. "Which means flying isn't just a way for moving around, it is also a way to have fun. Am I correct?" affirmative nods. "I'm going to guide you how to have fun on your brooms. It may seem easy, but it isn't." Someone snorted and the other students gasped, horrified. But Draco smirked. "Oh, so you think otherwise?" he asked the boy. He was chubby and pink and wore an arrogant look on his face. "Well, duh!" the boy said. "All you have to do is get on the thing and fly!" There was a tense silence afterwards. No one dared talking or moving in fright. No one knew what a murderer could do to them and no one was stupid enough to try and find out. well, no one except for that stupid boy. Draco approached the kid slowly, enjoying the expression of fear on the kid's face, as each step he took brought them closer, untill finally Draco was towering over the boy. He smirked when the boy took an unconscious step back. "What is your name?" he asked. The boy's eyes were round as saucers when he answered in a squeaky voice: "I-Ian Badrick, s-sir!"

"Ian Badrick," Draco smirked. "If you already know how to fly, why don't you demonstrate for us all?"

"S-sir?"

"Well, Ian? Go on. I'm sure you'll do great."

"I-I don't want to, sir." Ian gulped nervously.

"Don't be shy Ian. Now get on your broom and show us how easy it is to fly." Draco was merciless. He won't tolerate insolence in his classes. The kids watched with anxiety as Ian, left with no other choice, mounted his broom and took a deep breath. He gave Draco a nervous glance before kickng the ground. The broom jerked upwards but other than that, did nothing. Some kids giggled and Ian sat there on his broom, feet on the ground and looking confused. It did seem so easy! What was there to know, really? He just had to... to what? His confusion, combined with the humiliation he felt made him angry and he tried again. This stime he managed to float several seconds before his broom fell back down and Ian felt a sharp pain when his buttox collided with the hard ground. Now they were laughing at him openly and he quickly stood up, scowling and hating his teacher more and more.

"I see now you have a bright career in flying ahead of you Mister Badrick." Draco was not laughing but he sure was amused and it showed in his smirk. "Know this, Ian, I will not tolerate insolence. If you are fool enough to unterrupt me again in such a rude manner, there will be consequences," he told the terrified boy. Ian couldn't even nod in reply but Draco didn't mind. All that mattered was that the messaged got through. And if he was completely honest with himself, he liked being feared.

The silence was filled with anxiety and fear again and Draco sighed in exasperation. He turned to the rest of his class, thinking of a waycalm them down somehow. "There's no need to fear me," he asuured them once again. "It all depends on your behavior. As long as you behave, so will I. The moment you don't, I'll have to act accordingly. People should be punished for the crimes they do."

"Will you be punished, sir?" the question was so unexpected it almost made Draco think that maybe it was in his head. He thought the same thing just then, and he was quite certain the kids were wondering the same thing, but he didn't think any of them would actually dare to ask it. When he looked for the one who asked it, he found he wasn't too surprised to discover it was Vela Ashford. The little girl in Gryffindor robes already showed that the Sorting Hat wasn't wrong in her decision. Draco gave her a soft smile.

"I believe I will," he told her and the rest of them. "But not now, not in the near future." No one said a word. "Now," he suddenly said, "let's get ack to our lesson".

~O~O~O~O~

Draco noticed the boy for the first time the next day. Draco was in the middle of giving a lesson to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years when he caught a movement to his left side. He wasn't a boy really, he was probably a seventh-year and he had disshelved dark hair and even from that distance Draco could see those bright green eyes. Like emeralds. Aside from those, though, there was nothing very extraodinary about him; he was rather slim and an inch or two shorter than Draco. The bloke was wearing very simple and plain clothes which were obviously meant for a larger (fatter) man. But there was something about him that made him catch Draco's eye. And Draco had a very good eye. It was the way he walked, his head held high and his back straight, as if he could care less about what people thought of his clothes or his hair. There was something in those eyes, too, something like stubborn determination, Draco wasn't sure.

As if feeling someone's eyes on him, the boy turned to look at Draco. If there was anything Draco expected to see on the boy's face, it sure wasn't a blush. The dark-haired boy's eyes widened a little when he caught sight of Draco and his lips parted to form a small 'o', as if gasping. Then his cheeks flushed crimson and he stood there, rooted to the spot with no ability to move his legs and flee like his mind ordered him to do.

Draco couldn't help the smirk on his lips.

Ever since he was a small child Draco was aware of his good looks. Or rather, he was made aware of them by people commenting to him (or his paents) on how beautiful he was, even more than his older brother. It eventually made him vain and there was a short period in his life (at about the age of fourteen) when he became so unbearable to be around that his father had to do something about it. Draco could still remember the punishment he was given. His beautiful face had been truned into the face of something monstrous and horrid and he couldn't undo the spell. He might have been a prince, but even princes were forbidden from doing magic if they were underage.

Draco wept for the first two days but then he became so miserable that he didn't even feel like crying. After a week his father had asked him if he had learnt his lesson and Draco admitted whole heartedly that he had.

Now, he might not be as vain as he was, but he was still aware of his handsome face and now and then he liked to tease people with it. The boy was no exception.

Draco sent him a wink and smirked in satisfaction as the boy's eyes widened once again and the blush on his face seemed to darken.

"Instructor Draco?" the tiny voice seemed to do what the boy's brained tried to and when he heared the voice he turned on his heels and sprinted away. The students stared in fear as Draco laughed suddenly and seemed to be very amused.

"Sir?"

Draco turned back to his class, amusement still very evident in his eyes. "Can anyone tell me," he asked, "who was that student?" murmurs filled the air and the students looked at each other before openly staring back at their ignorant teacher.

"That's Harry Potter, sir!" a boy squeaked and others murmured their agreements.

"Harry Potter?" Draco asked, obviously missing something. They all seemed to be very excited about that boy-Harry Potter-was he someone special?

"You don't know him?" asked another girl and she sounded honestly amazed at that possibility. Obviously, Harry Potter was someone he ought to have know about. Shame he didn't. He shook his head and the students gasped dramatically.

"Well?"

"He's Harry Potter!"

"Youngest seeker in a hunderd years!"

"Best seeker in a hundred years!"

"He's, like, the best!"

"He hasn't lost a game since his first year here!"

"Yes, and he's only been playing since then."

Ok, so Harry Potter was obviously someone sepcial and apprently had the adoration of the first year students.

"He doesn't seem like much," Draco teased them and immediately there were cries of protest and rage. He chuckled and then called them back to order.

So, Harry Potter. Draco's first impression of the boy was of a strong minded young man. The boy's reaction to seeing Draco, however, completely shattered that impression to pieces. The boy blushed so deeply and fled, ran away like a hormonal teenage girl who couldn't handle being looked at by a handsome guy. The two impressions were so conflicting, Draco didn't know what to make of them. Draco was once told that first impressions last longest, Hary Potter was probably the first to defy that rule (in Draco's mind). Draco, somewhere inside of him, hoped to see that Harry Potter guy once again.

~O~O~O~O~

He saw him again, at dinner. The hall was full with loud students, laughing and chattering with their friends and Draco's head was aching. He wasn't used to such noisy meals. His colleagues seemed to be used to it and the Headmaster smiled pleasntly at Draco.

"I hope you're having a good time, Draco," he said and that twinkle was back in his eyes.

"I'm having a splendid time, Headmaster," Draco replied with a fake smile. He was sure Dumbledore did not buy that at all, but he didn't care.

Then, just like before, he caught a glimpse of a movement. It was absurd really, what with everyone in the great hall being in constant motion, but he seemed to be drawn to one movement in particular. Draco looked up from his plate and followed the motion of one black robe. It was Harry Potter.

The young man sat down between a ginger boy and a bushy haired girl and mounted food on his plate. He seemed to have fun, laughing when his ginger friend said something, radiating confidence and composure. So unlike the blushing boy that Draco had seen. Draco had to admit, the boy was intriguing. There was just something about him which made people like him and want to befriend him, and Draco Malfoy was no exception. Harry Potter seemed to be in his seventh and final year and therefore he was probably seventeen years old. By law he was an adult. But so what? Draco's rational mind supplied. He wasn't interested in the kid, was he? A bloke whom he'd never evem met, let alone seen before, whom he knew nothing about? Surely not. It was just his damned curiosity again. The Great Harry Potter. Since his first encounter with him Draco heard a few more things about the bloke, none of them really imortant or irregular. He was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team (a Gryffindor, why hadn't he seen that?), which was very reasonable, according to what he's heard of the bloke's flying skills.

Harry Potter seemed to also posses a great ability to detect eyes on him because once again he looked up, sensing Draco's stare. This time his blush was not so deep but there nonetheless. Draco gave him a smile (more of a smirk, really) and, to his surprise, Harry Potter returned him a hesitant smile. The bushy haired girl noticed the expression on her friend's face and turned to look at Draco's direction. And then, Draco suspected she had remarkable powers of observation, she smirked at Harry and made him blush. Draco chuckled to himself. The guy was such a tease! Even his friend could make him blush so easily. He must be a virgin, he thought, and then mentally slapped himself. Harry Potter ignored him for the rest of dinnertime and Draco made no attempt to catch his eyes. Draco engaged himself in a converstaion with professor Flitwick for the rest of dinnertime, not about spells and charms but-oddly enough-about Quidditch. The professor supported Puddlemere United and Draco admitted he didn't support any team but thought the Montrose Magpies was a wonderful team.

When dinner was finally over Draco left the great hall with everyone else. He had to turn a corner, though, and there he was, Harry Potter. He was with his two friends, but it was a trivial fact.

"N.E.W.T.s are ages from now Hermione!" the ginger whinged.

"They're not ages from now Ronald, they'll arrive sooner than you think." The girl, Hermione told him with a scowl.

"But the year has only just begun!"

"All the more reason why you should study hard from now!"

"I can't see the logic in your words."

"Really, Ron, you should know better than to argue with 'Mione." The last sentence was spoken by Harry Potter. Draco was surprised to find out he had a rather deep voice, not too deep, and quite soft.

"Harry! You're not agreeing with her, are you?" Harry Potter scratched the back of his neck. "I think 'Mione's right," he told his shocked ginger friend.

"As much as I am enjoying your conversation," Draco interjected from behind them and the three of them jumped in surprise. "I would appreciate it if you let me pass and reach my chambers." They blushed and made way for him. Draco passed through, smirking when he saw Harry Potter avert his gaze. "By the way Ronald," he told the red headed boy. "You should listen to your friends." Ron opened his mouth to say something but the girl kicked his foot.

Sometimes, Draco absolutely loved power.

~O~O~O~O~

A/N: the poem is 'The Tyger' by William Blake. You might remember that Draco said he was tweny years old. It's not true, really. He's nineteen and he'll be twenty on June 5. Harry, Ron and Hermione are all seventeen so there's only a gap of two years btween them and Draco.

-HairoM

P.S. it probaby doesn't interest anyone but I have to write it down: I Hate . that's all.


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